


Thinking

by 71RivLover



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-26
Updated: 2002-10-26
Packaged: 2018-11-10 04:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/71RivLover/pseuds/71RivLover
Summary: Benny's thinking!





	Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Thinking

## Thinking

by 71RivLover

Disclaimer: I don't own them and you don't either. :( Don't it make you want to cry?

Author's Notes: Not Beta'd. This is my first DS story that I've posted anywhere, but not the first I've written. I might write a sequel to it later, I'm not sure though. Please send me feedback!

Story Notes: What's that you say? Season 3? Kowalski? Burning Down the House? Armondo Langostini? "Do you think I'm attractive?� "Buddy Breathing?!� I have no idea what you're talking about. :) Actually, yes I do but you won't find any reference to any of those in this story. Sorry.

* * *

I find myself thinking more and more of him everyday. 

I find myself...wanting. 

Right now I sit beside him, in his car. I watch his hands, beautiful hands, as they steer through the heavy Chicago rush hour traffic. I watch them every morning as he drives me to work, watches as he waves them in the air when he's talking to some one, usually me, and getting exasperated. Watching the long slender fingers curl around the wheel, wondering what they would feel like curling around... 

I push that thought away. Now is not the time for such images. Perhaps later, in the middle of the night, when I am alone in my cot, when I can let this need, this want, loose and act upon it. Even if the act does not involve the man beside me. Even if I end up crying myself to sleep because of that. 

He is talking to me now. That beautiful voice, asking me what's on my mind. I know I have already used that word to describe his hands but it describes him, all of him, wonderfully. 

He is beautiful. 

I wonder what he would say if I told him that? Would he blush and object? I know he does not have much self-confidence because of his father. His father was not the kindest man, I know this from the abuse he has hinted to when we have talked about our fathers. Or maybe he would just walk away from the comment, and perhaps I would never see him again. Considering what I know, or what I assume I know about his opinion of homosexuals, I think he would become very angry. Even violent. I feel ashamed for think that though. He is my friend, I know he cares about me, more then he's willing to admit I bet. He is my best friend, and he has never become violent with me before. Even if I do ruin his suits and risk his life, time after time. 

I lie and say I am fine. 

He does not believe me and states so. 

He knows me better then anyone. He can read me like an open book so I am surprised he hasn't found out how much I want him. He has become so close to me over these few years. So close I cannot imagine life with out him. In fact I recently turned down a transfer back to Canada just to be with him. What would he think if I told him that? 

He is the only person with importance in my life. I have no family anymore, except for him. And his family, which he took me to meet my first week in Chicago. I cannot help but to think of them as my family as well. He has done his best to make me comfortable in a large, unfamiliar city. He has eased my loneliness with his mere presence in my life. 

We are out of the car now, walking up the stairs to my apartment. He is beside, as always. I know the routine. We have done it for years. I'll fix him coffee, some tea for myself, he will order pizza or Chinese and we will eat together chatting about today's cases. Diefenbaker will beg shamelessly for food and he will always share his meal with him. He will leave then, after insisting of helping me with the few dishes we have dirtied. He will leave and return to his family when I want him to stay. With me, in my cot, all night long. My thoughts wander again to what it would be like waking up beside him. I shake my head, I'll think about that later. I feel his hand on my shoulder trying to get my attention and he complains of my lack of attention span today. I cannot help but smile a little. 

I enter my sparse apartment and go about the daily routine when I am stopped by his voice asking what is wrong again. I turn to him. He is leaning against the closed door, Diefenbaker at his feet looking at me as well. His arms are folded across his chest, his green eyes starring at me. 

Ah. I know this. It is one of his interrogation techniques. He is not moving until he gets a straight answer. I almost laugh at that. The answer to his question is anything but. 

He is trying to guess what is wrong now. Asking if I am in some kind of trouble, if I am homesick. He sighs and stops guessing. I look in to his eyes and see pain and concern. Concern for me. Pain because he thinks I cannot, do not trust him enough to tell him what's wrong. 

He is wrong. I trust him entirely too much. And it scares me. 

His green eyes are pleading with me now. I melt. I cannot stop the words that escape my lips. 

"Ray. You are beautiful." 

I lower my gaze to the floor and await for his response. 

* * *

End Thinking by 71RivLover:

Author and story notes above.


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